Highlander's Captive (Highlander Trilogy)

by Donna Fletcher

  Owen ignored her remark and demanded. “What went on here?”

  Wintra stared at Owen, seeing a far different man than the one she had come to know. She had thought him a man with fine features, but not so now. His blue eyes, much paler than Torr’s vibrant ones, held a murderous look, as if he fought to control himself. His jaw was so taut that his chin appeared to jut out or had it always been that way? He was also slimmer than she had first thought or was she comparing him to Torr and finding him lacking. And his dark hair, always so perfectly groomed, was in complete disarray making him appear a wild man out of control.

  “Answer me, Wintra,” he yelled.

  She took a step back, keeping a firm hold on her torn dress, his eyes having darted to her breasts. Why was it that she felt much more naked and vulnerable in front of this man, she supposedly loved, than she had in front of Torr?

  Her answer came easily. Owen stood in front of her with anger oozing out of every inch of him, whereas, she had seen and felt only concern from Torr.

  He took a step toward her.

  She raised her chin along with her hand to ward him off. “Not another step.”

  He heeded her warning and remained where he was and softened his tone as he said, “I do not mean to upset you. I just want to know what this animal did to you.”

  “Torr is not an animal. My brother sent him to bring me home and that is where I want to go.”

  “But our plans—”

  “Have changed,” she finished. “Now let Torr free, and we will all proceed to my brother’s home.” Her brow scrunched a moment, and then she asked, “Who are those warriors with you?”

  “My friend sent them to escort us to his home.” His eyes narrowed and his voice turned firm. “And that is where we will be going. Torr can return home and let your brother know that you are safe with me and that I wish to arrange a marriage between us.”

  Where had his dictatorial attitude come from? Where had the kind and thoughtful man that she had known gone?

  “We will stay the night and leave at dawn,” Owen said. “The snow has turned to a trickle and should stop soon. By morning, we should be safe to leave.” He walked over to her and took her hand.

  She had all she could do but to pull it away.

  “I will overlook this discretion and see that you do not suffer for it. I doubt that Torr will admit to Cree that he had his way with you, too fearful of what he would suffer. We will wed and put this unfortunate incident behind us.” His tone turned harsh and anger punctuated his words. “And you will be grateful and be an obedient wife.”

  Fool. Fool. Fool. Dear Lord, how could she have been so blind to this man? And worse what did he truly want from her? She had to get home to her brother. Cree would keep her safe from Owen.

  So would Torr.

  The thought had her thinking. If she could get to Torr without being noticed and free him, they could escape together.

  “Did you hear me, Wintra?” Owen yelled and grabbed her arm, squeezing it so tight she winced. “You will learn not to have your head in the clouds so much when you are my wife. You will obey my commands without question, starting now.” His eyes grew wide and he licked his lips. “Show me your breasts.”

  She was stunned, though she responded fast enough. “I most certainly will not and when my brother hears ab—”

  The harsh slap sent her head reeling to the side and instead of fear rushing through her, anger grabbed hold.

  “You will show me more than your breasts before this night is over. I will lay claim to you and your brother will not be able to refuse us marriage, for you will be spoiled goods.”

  “Though not spoiled by you, and I will make certain my brother knows that.” Wintra spat at him and blood hit his cheek.

  He hit her again, letting go of her as he did. She fell to the ground, and he grabbed a handful of hair, yanking her head back. “When I return, I am going to spend the next few hours teaching you how to be an obedient wife and your first lesson will be,” —he pushed his plaid aside and stroked his enlarged member— “to take me in your mouth and learn how to pleasure me, which you will do at least twice a day from this day on or suffer the consequences.”

  This time he stunned her speechless. How could he expect such a wicked thing of her? Surely, he was perverse and, if so, what other wicked things would he demand of her? She had to get to Torr.

  Owen walked to the door saying, “You had better be naked and on your knees when I return or I will beat you senseless.”

  Wintra stared at the closed door for a moment, and then shook her head. She had no time to think on what a monster Owen was or why she had never realized it. Another reason why being raised the last few years in the abbey had not been a wise choice.

  She quickly wrapped the plaid around her midsection as Torr had suggested, then she slipped on her tunic that hung over her one shoulder, and pulled her boots on. She gathered their blankets, rolled them and tucked the roll under her arm to press tightly against her side. Then she slipped Torr’s cloak on and placed hers on top of his before scooping up the broken leg chair that waited to be added to the fire and held it firmly in her hand, making certain her cloak concealed it.

  She opened the door, expecting it to be guarded by one of the warriors. “I need a moment in the woods.” The warrior did not refuse her; she had not thought he would, though it was a chance she had taken. She had concluded by Owen’s actions, defender and protector of her honor in front of the warriors, that they were not aware of his evil nature. And she couldn’t be sure if they would believe her if she made them aware of his intentions. So her only reasonable choice was to get to Torr.

  “Don’t you worry,” the guard said as she trailed behind him into the woods, “that animal will get what he deserves.”

  Did they plan on hurting Torr? Did Owen plan on contacting her brother at all? And what had he told these warriors? She suddenly worried not only for her safety, but Torr’s as well. She had misjudged Owen badly. And she not only suffered for her foolishness, but others were suffering as well. No more. She would rectify her folly and be more select when it came to trusting men.

  “A moment of privacy, please?” she asked when the guard had stopped in a secluded area.

  “I can turn around, but I cannot go off and leave you alone. If anything happened to you, Owen would be distraught. He loves you very much.”

  The thought that Owen had convinced him of that sent shivers through her and more than ever she wanted to get away from him.

  “That will be fine,” she said and cringed at what she was about to do to this innocent man. As soon as he presented his back to her, she tossed her cloak back off her arm and, with a prayer on her lips that she didn’t do any great damage to the man, swung the chair leg as hard as she could at his head.

  He went down with a thud. She gave it a moment to see if he moved and when he didn’t she took off, reciting multiple prayers for the fallen warrior. She had kept a sharp eye on her surroundings when they had headed into the woods and had mentally planned her route to the lean-to so as not to be seen. She approached, from behind it, cautiously. She did not know how much time she had before she was discovered missing, so she did not want to waste a moment.

  Torr was tied with rope to a worn board that he could easily break with one good yank, but if he did the lean-to would collapse on top of him. Only one warrior stood guard in front, facing Torr, as if at any moment he expected him to break free.

  He was so intent on his duties and with the snow-covered ground cushioning her approach, he didn’t hear her coming until it was too late.

  “We have to get out of here,” she said stepping over the fallen warrior to get to Torr. She went to work on the rope, her hands trembling as she struggled to free him.

  “Look at me.”

  His demand was so sharp that she responded without thought.

  “He hit you?”

  “Please, I want to go home.” She hated that she sounded as if she b
egged him, but the thought of what Own would do to her if she did not get free had reduced her to pleading. She returned to working on the rope and once loosened, Torr managed to free himself the rest of the way.

  She slipped her cloak off as he did that, and then slipped his cloak off handing it to him and hurried hers back on. She then repositioned the rolled blankets under her arm since they had done a good job of keeping her warm.

  Torr untied his horse and with a gentle hand to the animal’s face and softly whispered words, he guided the horse out of the lean-to. He cocked his head at Wintra, directing her to follow, and she stayed right on his heels.

  When they were not that far from the cottage, Torr stopped and pressed his face to his horse and whispered something, then he tapped the horse on the backside and the horse snorted and hurried through the snow as fast as he could.

  It was then they heard the shouts.

  Torr scooped her up and flung her over his shoulder, and then he took a leap over a patch of snow into a bush. They both fell to the ground, though Torr was quick to get to his feet and scoop handfuls of snow to dump on the bush. He then grabbed hold of her hand and hoisted her off the ground and had her tucked behind another bush in seconds.

  No soon as he did, then Owen and his men came into sight. Even with the distance that separated them, she could see the fury on his face.

  “He took her. Get the horses. We go after them,” he ordered, his face burning bright red.

  It was not long before the whole troop was barreling down the same path that Torr’s horse had taken. They waited a bit longer to make certain no warrior lagged behind or returned, then Torr took her hand, and they hurried off.

  They walked for hours until finally Torr stopped and announced, “We rest, but just a bit.”

  Wintra dropped the blanket roll on the snow and sunk down on it.

  Torr hunched down in front of her, taking gentle hold of her chin to glare at the swelling at the corner of her mouth. “What happened?”

  Wintra didn’t know if she could ever tell anyone what Owen had said to her. She was too embarrassed for being such a fool and thinking he loved her, and she would not dare repeat what Owen had expected her to do.

  Torr ran his thumb tenderly over her lips and softly urged, “Tell me, Wintra.”

  There it was again—concern—and not only in his voice, but in his deep blue eyes as well. She found the words spilling out before she could give it another thought. “He told me that I was spoiled goods and that my brother would have no choice but to arrange a marriage between us. And he demanded that I show him my breasts and when I refused he hit me. Then—” She stopped there, not certain that she could say more.

  Torr’s heart pounded with anger, though he kept himself calm. He released her chin and once again urged, “Tell me the rest.”

  “I cannot repeat the wicked thing he said to me, though I will tell you that he ordered me to be naked and on my knees when he returned.”

  Anger continued to pound at him, though relief that Owen had not touched her pushed some of the anger aside. Owen was going to suffer for what he had done to her and suffer even more for what he had planned to do to her. He would see to it himself and enjoy every minute of it. But at the moment Wintra was more important to him.

  “Your quick thinking saved us both. You are a courageous woman.”

  “Stubborn,” she corrected with a smile. “I knew my only chance of escape and survival was to get to you.”

  Torr leaned closer, his lips not far from hers. “I will always be there for you, Princess, and I promise I will always protect and keep you safe.”

  Now that she gave it thought, Owen had never spoken about keeping her safe. And recalling what he had said to her about not allowing her head to be in the clouds was just unimaginable to her. Her mind had wandered since she was young. It was a way for her to learn and work things out. She did not know what she would do if that was taken from her.

  Why she asked the question of Torr, she did not know. It just spilled out, which seemed to be the way when she was with him. “Do you mind that my head is in the clouds so much?”

  “Your deep thoughts,” he clarified with a smile.

  She nodded and smiled as well, preferring the way he phrased it compared to Owen.

  “Owen accused you of having your head in the clouds?”

  She nodded again.

  “Owen is a worthless excuse of a man.”

  “And what am I for not realizing that?”

  “An inexperienced, young woman, which is why there are arranged marriages.”

  She shook her head. “But I do not want someone choosing who I will wed. Do you?”

  “Sometimes we have no choice.”

  She tapped her chest. “I want a choice. I want to love the man I wed.”

  “And hopefully you shall.” He stood and held his hand out to her. “We need to be on our way.”

  “Where do we go?” She took hold of his hand, and he helped her to her feet.

  “We are heading for your brother’s land, though a different route than my horse has taken. Once my horse arrives there, they will know something is wrong and come look for us. Hopefully, we will run into them along the way. The problem is that Owen will either backtrack once he realizes he tracks a riderless horse or he will continue to blindly follow the tracks, in which case we will cross paths somewhere along the way. Either way we are bound to run into one another at some point.”

  “There isn’t any way we can avoid him?”

  “There is but it would mean going in a completely different direction. Your brother would no doubt worry when he couldn’t find us, but—”

  “Owen would not be able to find us either and would tire of his search and give up.”

  “There would be a very good chance of that.”

  “But what if Owen went to Cree and convinced him my reputation was shattered and that he would wed me regardless?” Wintra cringed and shivered simultaneously.

  “Cree would never believe that of me, though I imagine he would believe it of Owen. Then the fool would be in for a whole lot of suffering. Besides, Cree would never decide anything until he has spoken with you.”

  “Where would we go?” she asked, the idea tempting, but then so was Torr and that could prove a problem.

  “There is a vacated croft that would suit our purpose about two or three days from here. No one would think to look there since it is off any well-traveled paths. It is completely isolated.”

  The two of them completely isolated for a few weeks, possibly a month? The thought sent the tingles racing through her. This was not a wise idea. She should go straight home to her brother even though there was a chance they would run into Owen. If she stayed alone with Torr, there was no telling what would happen. One thing was sure though, she would be doing a lot of praying. No. She needed to be wiser this time. She needed to get home as fast as possible and see this problem settled.

  She looked to Torr and her response was much different than she intended. “Take me to the croft.”

  Chapter Eight

  By the morning of the third day, Wintra was certain she was completely and utterly insane. She had no idea what had made her tell Torr to take her to the croft when her mind had been settled on going home to Cree. No matter how she dissected her decision, she could not come up with a sensible answer. Though when she had laid nestled in Torr’s arms the last couple of nights in front of the fire he had built to help keep them warm, she knew it was where she wanted to be. The strength of his arms wrapped so securely around her, and the way he had tightly tucked his fur-lined cloak around them both had made her feel safe and...

  There was something else about being in his arms that she couldn’t quite grasp. It was as if she looked forward to him holding her, being close to him and wondering—Lord help her—she wondered if he would ever kiss her again. Not to mention that her body forever tingled when near him.

  “Wintra!” His arm went around her waist, j
olting her to a stop.

  It took her a moment to focus and when she did, her mouth dropped open. She had been about to walk into a tree. She sighed. Getting lost in her thoughts was not helping her. Of course neither was trudging through the snow and woods for almost three days now.

  He turned her around and as soon as he did, she rested her head against his chest. His hand went to cup her neck and he lowered his chin on the top of her head to nestle in her wild curls.

  “Are you feeling well?” he asked.

  I am now, she thought. What was it about this man that had managed to turn her life completely upside down in a matter of days?

  “Wintra?” he asked again anxiously.

  “Exhausted, cold, and lost in thought as usual,” she said with a light chuckle.

  “Another few hours and we will be there.”

  Hours? Could she walk several more hours? It would mean finally being out of the cold and snuggling in a bed with Torr tonight. The thought was enough to give her strength, but also send a tingle through her. And begged to ask the question—what was she getting herself into?

  “Then we should keep at it,” she said, eager, yet anxious.

  Torr reluctantly stepped away from her. He did not want to. He had found he liked having her in his arms. She felt good there, tucked snug against him.

  He reached for her hand, taking firm hold of it. “I’m going to hold on to you so that you don’t run into any more trees.”

  Wintra smiled. “I need to stay focused.”

  “It would be a good idea,” he said as he tugged her hand so that she moved closer alongside him as they walked. “What keeps you deep in your thoughts?”

  She was surprised by his question. No one had ever asked her that. They simply assumed that she drifted off without rhythm or reason. That was far from the truth, and for the first time she was able to admit aloud, “Loneliness.”

  Torr turned, surprised at her response. “You had an abbey full of nuns to talk with, and what of travelers who stopped?”